


inevitable

by WritingOnTheWalls



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: (and whatever comes after), (weddings n shit), Comfort, F/F, F/M, Happy times, I Tried, M/M, Multiple Pov, One Shot, Spoilers, Things Are Fine, a libbydale lovefest, fluff???, post-100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22134124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingOnTheWalls/pseuds/WritingOnTheWalls
Summary: it's hard to be cynical when you're alive, in love and at a wedding.
Relationships: Ben Arnold/Emily Potter, Dwayne Libbydale/Kirk (King Falls AM), Katie Lynch/Lily Wright, Sammy Stevens/Jack Wright
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> I totally started writing this months and months ago (the day 96 came out, even) and uh. totally neglected to ever finish it. it's been updated slightly to reflect some ep 100 things. enjoy!

If you asked Sammy Stevens four months ago how he was, his most likely response would’ve been one of three things. 

The first being a simple ‘fine, thanks.’ No follow up, little emotion. Maybe a polite smile if he were staring you in the face. People should know better by this point, and if not, they deserved nothing from him.

An alternate option would be a deep sigh, a muttered apology, a heavy silence. Wringing his hands, gnawing his lips. Most people would know to change the subject, or move right along. 

The final option was the least common. He would laugh, loud. Bitter. In the face of whoever he deemed stupid enough to have asked that question in the first place. The ‘how do you think I’m doing, asshole? Seen my fiance lately? Had a shadow monster attempt to steal your soul? Murder my friends? How about that robot trying to murder me?’ was unspoken. 

Today, however, was different. 

Jack was back. Had been for three blissful weeks. Those weeks had been anything but easy, of course, but having him here and safe was better than the recent alternative. He was quiet and dazed most of his waking hours. He slept too long, too fitfully. But he was here. He was alive. He was in love with Sammy (albeit a little surprised at the change in Sammy’s expression of his own affection) and things were good. Not perfect, not easy. But good. 

And today, was a wedding. A celebration of all the things Sammy had thought so far from his grasp for the longest time. He’d ticked the little ‘plus one’ box on the invite almost a year ago at the insistence of Ben, despite his own beliefs that he’d be attending alone, if at all. Here he was, though. Helping his plus one fix his tie as he frowned into the mirror. 

“The bruise is ugly,” was what finally fell from Jack’s frowning lips, as Sammy pressed a kiss to the aforementioned mark.    
  
“You are the definition of perfect, Jack Wright.” 

His fiance’s frown deepened as he tugged at the too-tight collar of his shirt. “I don’t feel right in this shirt. Or in this house. In this town. In my body.” 

“I understand,” Sammy murmured into his ears, loosening the collar slightly, “Things will get better. They did for me. They will for you, for us.” 

“When did you become Mister Positive?” Jack’s frown turned comical as Sammy laughed, an uncharacteristically joyful sound before smiling bigger than Jack had ever seen.    
  
“It’s hard not to be when I have you. You’re everything, Jack.” 

“Ben would argue that.” 

Sammy laughed for a moment, before finally placing a kiss on Jack’s lips. To do so without hesitancy, despite knowing that there were half a dozen people in the next room really *was* everything. A simple gesture to most, sure. But Sammy had hoped and wished for this life, this life with Jack, this life with Jack back, this life where he could love Jack out loud without fear. 

“You’re everything, everything, everything,” he whispered, over and over, as though saying it enough would make Jack believe it too. 

* * *

The thing about weddings, Lily Wright supposed, that even if you were a cynical pile of human trash, you couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement of it. The love. 

She’d been to a few dozen weddings at this stage, but there was something different about the way her heart buzzed at this particular one.

Maybe it was her brother, holding hands with Sammy, and smiling shyly as he were introduced to person after person. She’d convinced herself to give up. To stop believing that this day were a possibility. But, well. Here they were. 

Maybe it was Emily, who sat to the left of her, smiling softly at her “fun-sized” boyfriend, who was trying (and failing) not to openly weep as the ceremony wore on. She was beautiful, and he cleaned up alright, she supposed. If you ignored the cast on her arm, and the cuts along his neck.

Maybe it were the balloons, or the tacky streamers, or the promise of cake.    
Maybe it were the two men kissing, signing their love at the dotted line. Because that was all kinds of wonderful too.    
Jack wasn’t the only seemingly impossible happening today.

Maybe it was the fact that they were there at all. That they’d made it. Alive. All of them. Injuries aside. 

(The losses will be great, the poem had said.) 

(But Lily would push that aside for a different thought, tonight. “I can’t pretend anymore,” she would tell Katie, “you make me feel like love is a possibility” and regardless of whether that were because of the lights or the full moon or the occasion, or the fear of everything changing soon enough, it didn’t change how desperately she meant every word.)

(It’s hard to be cynical when you’re in love, despite everything.)

(It’s hard to be cynical when you’re alive, despite everything.)

* * *

Emily was a fantastic dancer, which shouldn’t have surprised Ben. He was still constantly surprised by her, though. 

When his phone buzzed with a message from her, he was surprised she was thinking of him. When she called the station, he was surprised she still wanted to tell him things first, when Lily were probably the closer, easier option. When he woke up every evening and saw the look of unadulterated affection on her face, he was always, always surprised. 

He wasn’t surprised how easy it was to love her. Or how easy it was to be loved by her. 

Emily was patient, and kind, and brilliant, and beautiful. She was gentle and tough and Ben would never get over the way she made him feel invincible, like he could do anything - be anything. All she had to do was smile.

When everything was over, he often thought, he probably wouldn’t mind whisking her away somewhere safe for a while. Just the two of them. They could spend hours, days, weeks, planning their future together, in the kind of concrete way they’d never been able to up until now. He’d take her to one of those fancy old bookstores she loved so much, on a quiet Saturday afternoon. They’d wander the aisles, and she’d tease his literary choices (lovingly so, she didn’t know how to be genuinely cruel) and then they’d kiss behind the stacks like a couple of teenagers desperately in love. He’d buy her a love story, any love story, it wouldn’t matter. Because none could compare to the one they planned to write together. 

Later that evening, when they were finally actually alone, he would get down on one knee and ask her for forever. He’d make a thousand promises he intended to keep. Kids, a house tiger, a white picket fence. Whichever she wanted, or nothing at all. He’d give her everything he had. She would never ask, but he’d do it anyway. He’d never have enough to be worthy of her, but she’d love him anyway.

The wedding tonight was at Libbydale Farms, of course. Ron had shifted the gazebo over after the incident at the lake, but nobody seemed to mind too much. Ben had been here a thousand times growing up, and apart from younger animals and older buildings, the place hadn’t changed. But Ben had. He’d changed so much.

Dwayne had swung by their table after the first course, made a beeline for Ben and flung himself around his shoulders. “Benny, you have to save me,” he stage whispered with a giggle, “My  **husband** is insisting I bully people into dancing, and all my other friends are booooring.” 

Ben Arnold certainly wasn’t boring. 

Neither was Emily Potter, apparently. 

Ben fully intended to have all eyes on him, but not for this reason, surely. “Is there anything you can’t do, Emily Potter?” he would laugh into her mouth, and she would only twirl him in response, eyes shining, lips spread into the smile that had stolen all coherent thoughts from him years ago, and would continue to do so forevermore.

* * *

Dwayne Libbydale had an answer for everything. He’d become friends with Ben Arnold in second grade, when the two of them had been sent to time out for smart-mouthing their teacher. They’d pulled faces at each other, and giggled behind their hands, and the rest of their school life had been spent much the same. 

Their teachers soon found that even sitting them across the classroom couldn’t stop them from causing a disturbance. 

Dwayne had loved Ben, because it were impossible not to. 

When he’d laid eyes on Kirk, however, none of that seemed to matter anymore. 

Kirk was like nobody Dwayne had ever met, but from their first word shared, he’d felt like home. It made sense then. Why he’d left King Falls, and why he could never return without him.

Dwayne had managed to talk his way into Kirk’s heart, and he never planned to leave it. Thankfully, Kirk had gladly held him close. 

Life had other plans for them, but through death and justice and arguments and delayed weddings, Dwayne had never found himself speechless. 

Until he’d seen Kirk on their wedding day - bashful smile, flushed cheeks, not a hair out of place. 

Dwayne couldn’t do anything but cry.

They didn’t make words for those kinds of feelings. 

Everything until “I do,” was a messy blur. They’d kissed afterwards, of course. Dwayne usually pulled away, so eager to speak all his feelings out to his boyfriend, fiance, husband. Now, all he wanted to do was drag Kirk away and show him instead.    
  
They had a party to get to, however.    
  
And he was one of the guests of honor. 

It was a good thing he enjoyed giving speeches. 

(He found his words again, in the end.) 

* * *

“I can’t believe he came out to us in his speech,” Ben was a mixture of exasperation and adoration as he “as though we aren’t sitting here, at his wedding. To a man. Sammy, please explain.” 

“I am not the authority on being gay, Ben.” His fingers were threaded with Jack's, and he could barely pull himself away from gazing adoringly at him.

“Lily?” 

Her words were slurred, her laughter loud. “Maybe he thought you couldn’t see over the pews at the ceremony.” She barely managed to duck from the bread roll Ben proceeded to throw at her head, before being carted off by Emily to cool off and once again “being allowed to rejoin their adult conversation for adults, like an adult.”

* * *

It’s hard to concentrate when time suddenly flows correctly for you again.   


There were seven years worth of moments that Jack would never get back - the fact that he hadn’t aged seemed inconsequential, and yet. 

He supposed things would probably be worse if he could remember The Void in more than just flashes, but the grass is always, always greener. 

He’d dodged the questions. Tried to adjust. Had refused to cause a fuss for anybody. 

The pain was still overwhelming, but he wouldn’t let himself recoil in pain. Not around Lily who he still felt guilty around. Or Ben who was sweet, but wore Jack out like nobody else. Or any of the others, who honestly he knew next to nothing about.

Only Sammy was allowed to see him break. Sammy who seemed softer, lighter, happier. Somehow more in love with Jack than he had any right to be. To Jack, it’d been only moments since he’d seen Sammy. For Sammy, it had been lifetimes. Lifetimes of pain, and longing, and heartbreak and anger and - 

Sammy didn’t let go of his hand for hours. Jack knew he could see the panic behind his irises’. It lay unspoken between them, like so much else. 

They were at a wedding; everything else could wait.

He'd sat quietly through the ceremony, trying his hardest not to doze off. He smiled and waved and posed for pictures. He swapped Sammy for the fish, and Sammy didn’t even protest once. He let Sammy pour his drinks, and wipe his face, and drank in every look of love - not pity, not ever - that he shot his way.

They’d work it out. They always had before. 

When Ben had softly asked him if he’d wanted to dance, Jack had looked at Sammy with a panicked expression on his face. Sammy had moved to make an excuse, but instead Jack made a decision - the right one, he hoped.

“It’s a wedding, why not? Right?” 

Three hours, and six ‘chicken dances’ later, Jack (exhausted, sweaty, thrilled) knew he had.

* * *

Emily eventually had to pull herself away from Ben, but he seemed content enough to continue without her. Jack and Troy weren’t quite his level of exuberance, but the night was still young. 

Her search for Lily was cut short, as she spotted her and Katie wrapped around each other in a corner, kissing like a couple of teenagers, Sammy looking on like a disgruntled parent as he resignedly sipped on his glass of overpriced champagne. 

She considered joining him after a trip to the restroom, but was sidetracked by a crying Mary Jensen. Emily instinctively reached for her purse, retrieving a stash of tissues, some chocolate and lipgloss and held Mary as she sobbed. 

She eventually gathered herself enough to form words, and they sat on the tiled bathroom floor as the sounds of the party continued in the distance. 

“I’m not sad about it,” Mary had admittedly somewhat uncertainly, “I just wish he could’ve been here. Bella loved dancing with her daddy, and now he can’t even - “ 

“I’m sure he understands,” Emily bit her lip before continuing, “he’s alive, and well. Missing out on a wedding isn’t as bad as it could be.”

Mary sighed, running her hands through her glossy dark hair. “Things have just been so different for him. For us. I just wish things could go back to - well. Before all this. Before the rainbow lights. Before -” 

She looked guiltily at Emily, but she only received a hug in return. “You can’t win every battle.”    
  
“I can damn well try,” Mary grumbled into her shoulder.

Emily laughed, before kissing the top of Mary’s head. “You’re a fighter Mary, and so is Tim, and so are your kids - it’s in their blood. But sometimes you have to just. Leave the fighting for somebody else, and enjoy a wedding or two.” 

Mary sighed in resignation, “You’re wise beyond your years, Miss. Potter.” 

Emily laughed in appreciation, before tugging Mary to her feet. “Let’s go find Bella, I’m sure there’s a story or two from your own wedding she’d love to hear.” 

* * *

The stars seemed brighter out at Libbydale Farms. 

Sammy wasn’t sure if that was the buzz of the alcohol, or his happiness, or Jack’s lips on his neck, or something to do with air pollution. It didn’t matter either way. 

They were the same stars as Jack again, and nothing could ruin that. 

Sammy could see Ron off in the distance, packing away the gazebo with the man he’d brought as a date. Sammy had liked him, he hoped Kingsie would approve. Their laughter echoed all the way to the small secluded corner Jack and Sammy occupied, quietly folded into each other. 

“I never thought we’d be here,” Sammy had said without thinking, and Jack hummed his affirmation of the words. “I’m glad we are,” he added carefully. 

At this, Jack cocked his head up, and shifted so he was looking his fiance in the eyes. “Sammy?” he said quizzically, and Sammy leaned down to press their lips together. Lily would have called the kiss “longer than necessary,” but Sammy had a few choice words for her own actions that evening, and couldn’t care less about that right now. 

Jack made a small pleased sound as Sammy deepened the kiss, which did little to help Sammy’s resolve. When they eventually pulled apart, Jack seemed all too eager to slip his tongue back in his fiance’s mouth, but Sammy had other things on his mind. 

“Are we okay?” he managed to get out eventually, and Jack raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Do you mean in an impending doom and / or death by robot shadow monster kinda way or -” 

“No,” he struggled to find the right words, unused to the feeling, “I mean, do you still want me.” 

Jack wordlessly raised an eyebrow, and Sammy rolled his eyes. 

“I am not propositioning you at Libbydale Farms.” 

Jack practically giggled, “I’m sure Dwayne wouldn’t mind.” 

“You clearly don’t know the guy.” 

Jack sighed, and cupped Sammy’s cheeks with both his hands - an action that was quite difficult in their current position. “I am still madly in love with you, dork.” 

“I’m not - “ 

“Let me finish.” Sammy reluctantly complied. “Things are hard sometimes. Things are fucking impossible sometimes. I told you a thousand times though, and I’ll tell you again. You’re worthy of love, Sammy Stevens. I choose to love you, and I want to keep making that choice. If you’ll let me.” 

“Are you propositioning  _ me _ at Libbydale Farms now?” 

“I’ll propose to you as many times as it takes for you to believe that I’m crazy about you. No matter what.” 

“I guess if we can get passed werewolf denial, we can get through anything.” 

“See! We understand each other.” 

“I never should’ve doubted that.” 

“Make it up to me?” 

“You  _ are  _ propositioning me.” 

“I never claimed to be perfect, that was all you.” 

“Yet, here we are.” 

There would be a thousand more moments like this in their future. A thousand kisses, a thousand promises. A thousand different reasons for the rings decorating their fingers. Things wouldn’t always be easy - both of them knew that. Jack would still wake up every morning for years to come drenched in sweat and covered in scars that didn’t quite reach the surface. Sammy would flinch every time they had even the smallest argument. They’d hesitate to be apart for too long, or not manage to say the right thing because, despite their best efforts, they still got things wrong. They were a work in progress. They always would be. That was okay.

Their love had survived everything that had been thrown at them so far - and it would survive their future together too. There were just some things that even the deepest darkness couldn’t touch. 

The stars seemed brighter out at Libbydale Farms. 

The stars were brightest wherever Jack Wright was. 

(And if that weren’t true, Sammy chose to believe it anyway.)   
  


**Author's Note:**

> just let these guys have one night that doesn't suck? thanks. love to everyone who's reading, but esp. to friends who bullied me into actually finishing this? i just wanted more kirk/dwayne content, but hey. (this is also defs for one person in particular - they know who they are.)


End file.
